


Vlog 001 - A Scene In A Shower

by Apparentlynotreallyfinnish



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Inspired by Real Events, Link is thirsty, M/M, Rhett likes to touch himself, shower shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:27:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22304920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apparentlynotreallyfinnish/pseuds/Apparentlynotreallyfinnish
Summary: This was written in a frenzy a day before the first vlog came out after we saw the teaser clips.Rhett is in Link's (in)famous shower. Things happen.
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Comments: 6
Kudos: 78





	Vlog 001 - A Scene In A Shower

**Author's Note:**

  * For [galacticnocturne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/galacticnocturne/gifts).



> As said in the summary, this was written before the vlog and I couldn't have guessed that our boy would actually shower _naked_. I was 100% sure he'd wear at least a speedo. I am still reeling but I won't change this fic because Rhett is an exhibitionist.
> 
> This was initially inspired by [@galacticnocturne‘s](https://galacticnocturne.tumblr.com/) addition to [this post](https://galacticnocturne.tumblr.com/post/190307672926/goodmythicalshipping-x-but-imagine-if-this) but as I wrote it, it kinda morphed a bit. So it’s not exactly that.

“First of all, you’re gonna want to…”

“I can figure out how to shower!” Rhett snaps. It’s more for the entertainment value than from actual annoyance, but there is a bit of that too.

“Ok, fine! Fine,” Link says, smirking at Rhett from behind the see-through partition wall.

“I’m a man. I stay at hotels all the time,” Rhett adds before turning to inspect Link’s shower. He jiggles a knob and mutters, “That doesn’t do anything…” Suddenly, freezing cold water splashes onto his back, making him jump and yelp. He swallows down a curse and scrambles to adjust the temperature.

Link cackles, shaking the tripod he’s holding.

“Told you,” he says with a smug smile that is designed to make Rhett’s blood boil.

“Whatever,” Rhett mutters, looking at his own phone propped up on the famous shower window’s sill. “I bet he did that on purpose.”

Link laughs again, confirming Rhett’s suspicions. 

He pushes down the faint feeling of annoyance. It’s good content. The fans will love it. That was how he was cajoled into this whole charade in the first place.

_I really think you should come and take a shower at my house. The fans would eat that shit right up._ Those had been Link’s exact words. Rhett had barely put up a fight. Link had been talking about his shower for too long. It had been fun at first—the whole saga of he and his neighbor—but it was getting old, and Rhett knew he wouldn’t let it go until Rhett came over. And if they could monetize that, all the better.

But now that he is actually standing inside Link’s shower, he isn’t so sure anymore. He feels strangely exposed—vulnerable. Nowadays, when they film there is always a flurry of people around them. Rhett has grown used to it. There is safety in numbers. Now there are just the two of them, all alone, in Link’s bathroom. It feels different, more intimate. And then there’s the fact that he is almost naked—apart from the speedos he’d worn—and Link is fully clothed.

“I think you should’ve stripped too,” Rhett says. He’s finally managed to get the water to turn nice and warm and ducks his head under the showerhead. “Just out of solidarity.”

“Yeah? And then I would’ve gone outside in my undies and walked up my neighbor’s driveway? Sure, Rhett. Sounds like a great plan,” Link says and shakes his head.

Rhett shrugs and rubs his chest theatrically while stretching his back. The water feels nice. If he closes his eyes, he can almost forget he’s being watched. A deep satisfied sigh slips from his lips.

“Good, yeah?” Link asks. His voice is lower than before, almost breathless. Curious to see where Link is going with this angle, Rhett peeks from under his lids. The partition separating them is getting misty and wet, hard to see through, but Rhett can still tell that Link’s stepped closer.

“You gotta do the thing,” Link continues.

“The thing?”

“The routine. My routine,” Link answers. He’s getting impatient. Rhett can see it in the way he’s balancing on the balls of his feet, swaying forwards and backwards.

Rhett chuckles. “What, like this?” He takes a bottle of conditioner and squirts a big dollop of it on his palm.

“Wait, that’s—!” Link tries to stop him, but it’s too late. Rhett’s already rubbing it all over his hair. He’s making a show of it, closing his eyes and twirling his fingers in his curls. Since he’s already here, he might as well give the fans a show.

_Fans. Mmhmm, yeah, right… Keep telling yourself that._

Rhett ignores the small voice at the back of his mind. He’s good at ignoring that voice. A master at it by this point, after doing it for the past 30-ish years.

“Rhett, what the fuck? That was conditioner!” Link whines.

“Oh no, was it not yet time for _the ner-ner_?” Rhett asks mockingly, winking at his phone camera.

“This is not what we talked about. Do it properly!”

“Just an honest mistake. Let me wash it off,” Rhett says with a crooked smile. “I use this to wash my body, right?” he confirms just to annoy Link further and runs his palms down his chest.

“Rhett!” Link snaps. He sounds properly distressed, but that only seems to spur Rhett on. His hands dip lower, traveling slowly over his stomach, rubbing the run-off of the conditioner into his skin. For a beat, he gets lost in it, lost in the warm flowing water and the feel of his palms against the slick skin. 

There’s a faint sound, and Rhett peeks at Link from the corner of his eyes. Did Link just whimper? No, he must have heard wrong. The pipes must be making strange noises. Link’s eyes are wide, and his hand is trembling. There is no way anything he’s filming right now will be usable.

Rhett continues down his legs, taking the time to thoroughly wash his thighs and calves before finally, bending all the way down to rub his toes. He doesn’t see from this angle, but he knows Link is still watching him. He can feel it.

“Rhett, please… Just—” Link whispers as Rhett’s hands drag up his legs. Rhett feels warm all over. Must be the water. The fact that the warmth seems to be concentrated around his groin means nothing.

Rhett’s hands climb back up, and as a joke, he lets his fingers graze his nipples. He shouldn’t be surprised to find them perked up and sensitive, but he is, and he can’t stop the small gasp that escapes him. He should feel ashamed, embarrassed, flustered. And he is. He surely he is. But somehow that just makes it better. Makes him keep touching himself like this.

Link’s gone quiet. All Rhett can hear is his breathing—heavy, ragged breathing. Rhett screws his eyes closed and lets his hands move down again. His belly is soft and still a bit slippery from the conditioner. He doesn’t mind the little bit of tummy he still has despite his new vigorous gym routine. It’s nice. Absentmindedly he wonders if Link thinks it’s nice too. Nevertheless, he rubs it appreciatingly in small circles that inch closer and closer to his waistline.

Rhett’s fingers slip under the waistband of his speedos. 

A loud slam startles him from his dreamlike state, and his head whips towards Link. Link’s palm is pressed against the steam-covered glass. Rhett stares at the hand, feeling confused. Did he hit it? Link’s other hand is hanging limply on his side. The camera and the tripod are on the floor.

“Rhett,” Link murmurs and presses his forehead against the glass wall, as well. His voice is strained—he almost sounds like he’s in pain. His eyes flutter closed for a moment, but then he opens them and licks his lips. His gaze is piercing. He’s staring at Rhett, who is still standing under the streaming water, hand halfway down his pants. The blue of Link’s eyes shines through the misty glass, and he speaks again. It’s so quiet, Rhett almost doesn’t hear it. But it’s there. The faintest of pleas. “ _Can I?_ ”

The rush of power Rhett feels is almost overwhelming.

“Can you what?” he asks, voice low, and dips his hand further into his wet pants. Link’s gaze is trained on his crotch, and the deeper Rhett goes, the more Link’s mouth opens. He doesn’t say anything; he just pants into the glass, puffing warm air onto it, misting it further.

“How did it go? Your shower instruction. _If it hides…?_ ” Rhett coaxes.

“ _…expose it,_ ” Link says the words as if he’s been enchanted.

“Aah, that’s right,” Rhett murmurs and yanks down his speedo. It’s been thoroughly drenched, so it’s tight and barely moves down. But the few inches he manages is enough. Rhett’s swollen cock bounces free, and Link lets out a whimper. This time Rhett doesn’t suspect it’s the pipes. Link’s hand no longer hangs free, it’s pressed against the unmistakable bulge in his pants. 

Looking Link right in the eyes, Rhett yanks the speedo down his thighs and steps out of it, letting it hit the shower floor with a wet plop.

“And then? _If it flops…?_ ” Rhett asks swaying his hips just enough to make his dick bop slightly between his legs. Link swallows so hard, Rhett can almost see a cartoon-like ‘gulp’ written on the steam next to his flushed face.

“ _…lift it,_ ” Link gasps.

“Like this?” Rhett confirms and grabs his cock, lifting it towards his stomach as he strokes it slowly. The groan that spills from his lips is drowned out not by the rushing water, but Link’s needy growl.

“Mmh,” Rhett moans, keeping his hand moving. “I don’t think it’s clean enough yet. Any suggestions?”

The rush of movement startles Rhett, and he almost slips. His head dips under the water, and for a moment, he’s blinded by the shower. When he gets his bearings, the place where Link stood is empty, except for his jacket, that lays crumpled on the floor next to the tripod.

Link’s in the shower. Rhett’s breath catches. Link’s _on his knees_ in the shower.

“I can help,” he says, staring up at Rhett. Water is bouncing off of Rhett’s body, raining down on Link. His blue t-shirt is slowly getting drenched. Rhett reaches for Link’s face, and his knees almost buckle from the way Link lifts his chin and leans into Rhett’s touch.

“Yeah? You wanna show me how it’s done?”

“Please,” Link whimpers. Rhett takes hold of his chin and pulls his mouth open. Link’s tongue slips out of his mouth and settles against his bottom lip. He looks up at Rhett, eyes fluttering. Water running down his face is making his eyelashes stick together. He looks like he stepped right out of Rhett’s favorite porn. He looks filthy. Gorgeous. Fuckable and sweet. All at the same time. 

“So, fucking sexy,” Rhett murmurs and presses his thumb on Link’s tongue. There’s a glottal throat sound that makes Rhett’s cock twitch, and his legs tremble. He rubs Link’s tongue with his finger and reaches with his other hand to snatch his glasses and sets them on the window sill. He sees the phone, realizes it’s still recording but does nothing to stop it. It’s only from the chest up after all. And he definitely will want to relive what’s about to happen.

“Show me how you work that mouth, boy.”


End file.
